Go Set a Watchman
by Valtion
Summary: Jedi Knight Darael Korvos, Former Revanchist and Jedi Watchman of Balmorra, never wanted a Padawan. To the displeasure of both himself and his cover story, he doesn't have much of a choice.
1. Chapter 1

_I do not own Star Wars, Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic, Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic 2, or any of the characters therein._

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Jedi Knight Darael Korvos never wanted a Padawan. He had been assigned to Balmorra as Watchman for years, during which time he had traveled the lesser known towns and cities of the planet, the ones without spaceports. He entered with the disguise of being a mercenary, but the local Balmorrans had come to view him as a wandering lawman. The planetary government eventually gave him an official commission as a Marshal.

The biggest issue was that Balmorra had not accepted the invitation to rejoin the Republic. The planetary government was the only government they had, and those guys had bigger things to worry about ever since the end of the Dark Wars a few years prior. After Revan and Malak the common Balmorran was unwilling to trust a Jedi, let alone a "Watchman" assigned by the Jedi Council to "protect" them. Balmorra had suffered greatly during the Mandalorian Wars, only to be betrayed by their heroes like the rest of the Republic. It was almost a solid decade and a half of warfare on the planet, and the landscape, in addition to the economy and the morale of the people, had suffered for it.

The Jedi, of course, had their share of problems too. Meetra Surik had gone chasing after the ghost of Revan, and now the best Jedi Masters that were available were the ones who formerly fought alongside Revan and Surik in their galaxy-spanning escapades, but those Jedi were considered heretics by more classical Jedi survivors, and had been hushed for the sake of preserving the Order.

Quite simply, Balmorrans trusted Marshal Korvos and his vibroaxe, but they would never trust a Jedi. If Darael took a Padawans, even an older teenage one, he feared that his cover would be put at risk, and he didn't like risks. Few Balmorrans even suspected his status as a Jedi, and he wanted to keep it that way.

Sa-11y activated the landing gears and eased the repulsorlift as it landed The Nymph, a Lethisk Class Armed Freighter, on Dantooine. An Arakyd bigwig had been fired recently for his part in selling over 30 Lethisk Class Freighters to less-than-legal buyers at a steep discount, one of whom decided to be a bandit on Balmorra. Marshal Korvos had led the raid with a bunch of grunts from port security, capturing the perpetrator and finding sufficient evidence to move to a full trial immediately. The possessions had been seized by the government under an old civil forfeiture law and then gifted to those who had suffered under the perp's hand. Except for The Nymph, of course, as she had been gifted to the "Legendary Marshal of Balmorra."

Alongside his partner in the Marshal Service, Lady Marshal Nadine Corinth, Darael had captured many perpetrators and been to many places and odd shops on Balmorra. In a run-down shop in one of the factory sectors Darael had met Sa-11y, a sentinel droid with multiple personalities due to an error in the installation of a heuristic processor. The primary personality was Sa-11y, a pacifist of all things, with a voice emulator permanently set to female and sultry. When things got hairy, though, Su-11y came out, a _mildly_ sadistic assault trooper and pilot who had come through for the duo on multiple occasions. Sometimes, however, Sa-11y would come out in the middle of a fight, set the rifle to stun, and infuriate Su-11y when he came back online. He didn't want to buy the droid, but Corinth found it entertaining so she made the purchase.

Corinth was in the aft of The Nymph, the only Balmorran to know Darael's identity as a Jedi. She was accompanying him to Dantooine to solidify the cover story, a much needed vacation for the duo. She came out to the fore deck and said, "Another perfect landing Essie. I couldn't have done it better if I tried."

"Thank you, Lady Marshal. Please, enjoy yourself on Dantooine." Sa-11y sighed.

"You sound more ready to get it than I've ever been, Essie." Corinth laughed.

"But of course, Lady Marshal. You were raised a royal and I'm but an addict, and watching the tension between you two every night on this ship has made me so… _hungry_."

"There is nothing between Korvos and I." Corinth stated.

"I know, that's why I record you both in your sleep and apply video-editing software to -"

"That's enough, Sally, we have work to do here." Darael finally said.

"Of course, Master. I do so love it when you do your work," Sa-11y said.

"Have Sully prepare The Nymph for departure, we won't be long." Darael said to the droid, checking the straps of his armor and the harness for his vibroaxe.

Corinth hit a button and the exit ramp descended, the door opening for the Marshals to exit. Neither turned back to hear the droid shift to a more raspy baritone and say, "Sir, yes sir."

Darael and Corinth made for an interesting sight in the reclaimed Jedi Academy on Dantooine. Darael was in an armored flight suit with his vibroaxe strapped to his back, it's twin blades gleaming in the sunlight and it's rancor leather showing obvious wear where Darael had grasped the haft. Corinth wore scarcely more than a tank top beneath her long, open blast coat. While her pants were well fitted and her boots were ready for combat, she didn't look like a Jedi, especially with a Heavy Blaster Pistol holstered on her hip. But she wasn't one of them so no matter.

It wasn't long before a bright-eyed teenager in Jedi robes with a training saber clipped to his belt approached the duo. "Excuse me," the young Twi'lek said. "But you are currently going to the Council Chambers. Our cultural liaison is back another hallway and three doors down on the left. I'm sure that she'd be more than happy to hear whatever it is you would like Jedi aid in."

Darael was chuckling but Corinth had already opened her mouth before he could say anything.

"We appreciate the assistance, young one, but we are here for neither. We are Marshals from Balmorra and we were invited to watch some exhibition matches." she smiled sweetly at the youth, causing him to blush slightly before recentering himself.

"Yes, of course. My apologies, honored guests, allow me to guide you to your seats. The dueling arena is just over this way." the Twi'lek straightened to his tiny pre-pubescent height and took us to a spacious room.

Corinth always seemed to have that effect on males of any species she came in contact with, Jedi or not. She was, after all, comely and approachable, and while Darael had to admit that she didn't lack for physically attractive features, she was no holo-model, and she was alright with that. Instead she attempted to emulate the Echani, making every aspect of her appearance more suitable for combat. Her hair was the one freedom that she allowed herself, favoring a short braid of her Titian hair over her left shoulder to the traditional Echani pixie cut. Any hair, especially Darael's crew cut and light stubble, seemed tame in comparison to Corinth's fiery red.

Once they were in the room Darael quickly spotted the man who had sent for him. Unfortunately, he'd been seen as well.

"Well I'll be, Darael Korvos! How are you, ya whippersnapper?" Jedi Master Jolee Bindo walked over to us and they embraced for a moment, laughing. Then Bindo sized up Corinth, saying, "And this lovely lady must be your partner in crime. It is truly a pleasure to have the opportunity to meet such a beautiful woman."

Corinth laughed, "Well, aren't you charming. Korvos, is this the Master Bindo you told me about?"

"So he is, Lady Corinth, and it would seem that he hasn't changed at all." Darael chuckled.

"I'm old, dammit! I have every right to enjoy the company of a beautiful woman. How many times do I have to tell you this?" Bindo sighed.

"Master Bindo does not share the restrictive views of the rest of the New Jedi Order." Darael explained to Corinth.

"The Old Order was just fine until Exar Kun showed up. He wrecked everything, and then fools like Atris were looking for any reason they could find to put more restrictions on the Order. 'Fight the Dark Side by preventing the Dark Side' they said. I've never heard a more ridiculous sentiment in my already too-long life. Heh, I've also never met a worse lot of fools! Their desire for vengeance upon those who fell brought them to the Dark Side as well. They became the very monsters that they sought to prevent, especially Atris." Bindo rambled.

"Restrictive?" Corinth asked.

"No relationships, no emotions, no living. Heh, if the Council caught me rambling on like this to a Revanchist they'd try to expel me, but they can't. They need me and they know it." Bindo said.

"You were a Revanchist?" Corinth folded her arms and looked at him as though she were betrayed. She was the closest thing that Balmorrans had to royalty, and though she was far removed from being heir apparent, she still took the war-torn landscape of her beloved world personally. There was a lot of blame for it all shouldered squarely on Revan, and rightly so, but it was about time that Darael took a bit of it.

"Fought with him, then left the Jedi as a consequence. I used my connections with the Republic Military to stay on as a commissioned officer. I eventually fought against Revan in the Civil War. My strike team gave their lives getting Bastila's team onboard Revan's flagship, I barely survived.

"I resigned my commission and went through odd jobs and mercenary work for years, which is how I survived the Dark Wars, no one was looking for me." it was odd that Darael had found himself back in military stances and speech patterns. His hands were behind his back and he was staring straight ahead: at ease.

"Easy now, soldier boy. We're lucky that there were people like you, or the Jedi would be completely dead." Bindo rested a hand on his shoulder, but Darael could see the look on Corinth's face and knew that she would never forget this. There was a reason why Darael did not discuss his personal history.

"The point is, Darael, that you have the makings of a great Jedi, and I need someone to pass on how to be a real Jedi. I can't, the Council would start looking at me like I was the next Kreia." Bindo continued.

"My Padawan will not be trained as other Jedi will be. My cover will not be blown. Am I clear?" Darael asked Bindo, who just nodded while chuckling. Darael continued, "It is likely that my Padawan will not have contact with the rest of the Order for years at a time. The Council may not see them again until they are ready for their trials."

"I'm not worried about that, and it is nearly time for the exhibition matches. You are not the only Jedi Knight who was summoned here. Please, enjoy the show." Bindo clapped Darael's back and bowed to Corinth before going back to his seat as one of the presiding Jedi Masters.

The first few bouts were not impressive, not to Darael, at least. He saw classic Jedi after classic Jedi, both strong with the Force and distant, both weak and skilled in combat. Corinth, however, was glued to the fights, she had never seen a lightsaber, even a training saber, being used before. She was lucky enough to have been well protected during each of the wars.

Corinth shifted next to Darael and asked, "Do you have a lightsaber?"

Darael shifted uncomfortably. "Yes."

"But I've never seen you use it." she whispered.

"I've never needed to." Darael replied.

The final bout was soon at hand, the Twi'lek with wide eyes from earlier and a human-looking girl with bandages over her eyes.

"Miraluka," Darael whispered to himself.

"What?" Corinth strained to hear her partner.

"Nothing," Darael grumbled. Corinth shrugged.

The bout was over quickly. The Twi'lek demonstrated masterful use of the lightsaber, and while the Miraluka kept tumbling and dodging something kept her from actually using the lightsaber to strike, despite multiple opportunities to do so. The Twi'lek caught her hesitation and used it to press the advantage, tripping her and holding the training saber to her throat.

After she got back up with the Twi'leks help, she was frowning at the lightsaber. She then handed it to a puzzled Master Bindo without a word.

"I'm going to talk to her." Darael told Corinth.

Corinth did not look happy, but said, "Alright, I'm coming with you."

Once the matches were officially over Darael saw many of the prospective Padawans speaking to the various knights in the room, but no sign of the Miraluka. Instead, Darael went to Bindo, who was still holding the lightsaber.

"What happened in that last fight?" Darael asked Bindo.

"Seems to me like the poor girl lost her nerve. It might have had something to do with the lightsaber, though. We found her making modifications to her old training saber. We didn't take it away but we had to issue her a different one for the fight." Bindo shrugged.

"And where would she be now?" Corinth spoke for her partner.

"Probably in her room. She tinkers as much as she can in there." Bindo smirked. "Maybe she'd be good for you?"

"Maybe, she could eventually prove useful, if my hunch is right. Could you take us to her?" Darael said.

"Of course," Bindo replied. He guided the duo through the hallways of the enclave, stopping just outside a door which barely muffled the sounds of whirring machinery. Master Bindo handed Darael the suspect training saber before he turned around and returned to the main event.

Darael knocked, "May we come in?"

There was a rapid shuffling of items and silencing of machinery before the call was finally answered. "Yes, Master," came a soft, petrified voice.

Darael entered the room as soon as the door opened, Corinth right behind him.

"You actually recognize me for a Jedi. I guess that I shouldn't be surprised; you are a Miraluka, after all." Darael said, staring at the training saber in his hand.

"Yes, Master. I see through the Force." she answered.

"Well enough to be skilled in mechanics? Most Miraluka don't see details well enough for that." Darael commented.

"I can see and understand it with my hands, Master, and the Force guides my hands. It is the same thing with starfighters, just bigger." she smiled.

"Then I've only a few questions left." Darael said, looking around the room. He saw where she had hidden all of her gizmos and machines, a lockbox beneath her bed. He also saw a utility belt hanging off of her bed, a blaster pistol holstered on its side. _Curious, and useful,_ he thought.

"I'll do my best to answer them, Master." she said.

"What was your objection to this training saber?"

She grimaced, "That blade is tainted, master. It should not be used by a Jedi."

"How do you know that?" Corinth spoke up.

"I can see the history of an object when I touch it. I can see who pulled the trigger of a blaster and I can see who forged a vibroblade." she said.

"Then what do you see from this?" Darael asked, extending his vibroaxe to her.

She took it in her hands. "I see… war… death… so much blood… but there is no taint, only a stain. This is a hunter of the Dark Side. And I see something else, as well, Master."

"What do you see?" he asked, one eyebrow raised.

"A lightsaber?" she seemed nervous.

"Activate it." Darael commanded.

"How, Master?" she asked.

"Find the way. Allow the Force to flow." Darael said. He began to walk around her, watching her stance.

Corinth's attention was turned to the butt of the vibroaxe's haft. She knew the core of the haft had been hollowed out for circuitry and that the button on the butt was used to activate the vibroaxe, but she had never suspected that there was a lightsaber emitter hidden in the pommel. She was stunned into silence when a bright yellow glow filled the room, the blade crackling from the focus of the power. The young girl smiled, proud of herself.

"By the Force!" the girl exclaimed.

"Yes, my lightsaber is activated through the Force, though it has been dormant for years." Darael said. "It took an exceptional knowledge of my weapon to know that it was there, knowledge which logic forbids you from having, but I suppose the Force defies all logic anyway."

"What is your name?" Corinth finally asked the girl.

"An-Etté. My name is An-Etté."

"No family name?" Darael asked, touching the haft of his halberd and deactivating the lightsaber blade.

"No family save the Jedi, Master." An-Etté replied.

"Good, that makes it easy to craft a cover for you." Darael smiled at Corinth, who only nodded back somberly.

"What do you mean, Master?" An-Etté seemed anxious and slightly scared.

"I can tell by the way you walk and fight that you would be well suited to my Sokan variety of Ataru. Perhaps not the pike or even my own halberd, but there is still much I can teach you. Consider this my formal invitation to become my Padawan, An-Etté." Darael used the force to lift his halberd from An-Etté's hands and put it back into its harness.

"Master, I'm but thirteen! I was told by Master Brianna that it was unlikely that I would become a Padawan before I was sixteen!" An-Etté seemed flustered.

"Statistics mean nothing to me, An-Etté. Only the ends and the means by which we achieve them." Darael said. "Being my Padawan would not be easy, nor would it always be fun. It would likely involve being away from the Order for years at a time and you would have to disguise yourself in order to maintain our cover story. You see, I am the assigned Jedi Watchman to Balmorra, and the Balmorran people don't care for Jedi, not yet, perhaps not ever."

"Master, I don't even know your name, how could I possibly accomplish this, let alone hide myself from discovery as a Jedi?" An-Etté wondered.

"Darael Korvos. My ship is known as The Nymph, docking bay 3A." Darael said, putting the tainted lightsaber in front of An-Etté. "Bring me this saber when you can tell me who tainted this saber and why. If you come with all of your worldly possessions I'll consider it acceptance of my proposition. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Master Korvos. I will find the answers you seek." An-Etté immediately kneeled before the lightsaber, lifted it into the air and began her meditation. Darael motioned to Corinth and they left the room, closing the door behind them. They wandered away for a time before stopping in a secluded hallway.

Darael sensed that they were alone before he gave the go-ahead to Corinth to speak her mind in privacy. It was one of the first tricks that they had figured out when he revealed to his partner that he was a Jedi and it was particularly useful for law enforcement.

"Thirteen? Are all Jedi this crazy? The Balmorran Badlands are no place to take a child, and the Industrial Districts are just as bad at night!" Corinth was flustered.

"I agree, which is why I didn't want to come here. I didn't want to do this. I offered her a choice, and by the Force I hope that she doesn't take it. If nothing else, however, she was right. That saber was tainted and we need to find out who and why so that we can deal with the offending Jedi, solve a problem before it starts, or find a proper way to dispose of the saber."

"Why?" Corinth shrugged. "A weapon is a weapon."

"Not to a Jedi, and you have the least amount of expertise in that subject, given that you prefer your fists to everything else." Darael snapped back at her. Corinth just folded her arms in opposition to him. Darael sighed, "A Youngling with a tainted training saber will be more prone to anger and frustration, which will have negative repercussions later on."

"And so you left it with a teenage girl? They are the biggest hive of negative emotions and frustrations in the galaxy! She's probably only just begun to understand her hormones, you can't possibly be serious about this!" Corinth accused.

"I wonder if Miraluka even have the same types of hormones…" Darael mumbled.

"What was that, Korvos? You know I can hear you, right?" Corinth was upset.

"An-Etté is a Miraluka, she is not a human. She was wearing the bandages over her eyes to signify that she has no eyes. Her entire species sees through the force, and I don't know what else about their physiology is similar to other sentients of the galaxy." Darael explained himself.

"So? Teenagers of all races are basically the same. You can't be serious about any of this!"

"I am, unfortunately, and despite all of their faults the Council is right. We can't afford for any eligible Jedi Knight to be without a Padawan right now."

"The Jedi can't afford that right now, but Balmorra can! You get by just fine without your lightsaber as a Marshal, and what is good for the Jedi is not always good for us, for Balmorra, I mean. Just… stop saying 'We'!" Corinth snapped. Darael gave her a moment to calm down, letting her breath. In all honesty he needed one as well.

Darael looked Corinth in the eyes and said, "I. I need to do this, Lady Corinth. And if An-Etté accepts my proposition, I can train her better than anyone else in the Order. Besides, her skills would be useful to us in finding perpetrators or discerning the truth."

"Invisible magic from an individual trusted by the government is not indicative of probable cause. You know that!" Corinth said. Darael threw up his hands and sighed.

"Still, though, -"

"Regardless of that, Korvos, you would be her personal tutor in life while she's going through puberty. Believe me when I say that you aren't ready for that, and any weakness on your part during her formative years will result in disaster when she is older. You can't do this." Corinth continued.

Darael leaned against a nearby wall and looked up, lost in thought.

"Is this how you deal with issues, ignoring them until you think your way out of it?" Corinth taunted.

"No, Lady Corinth. When I want to ignore an issue I imbibe copious amounts of alcohol. I think when I want to _solve_ an issue."

"Then tell me, _Master Jedi_ , what is your solution?" Corinth mocked.

"If she says yes, will you help me to train her?" Darael asked, still looking up.

"No."

"Why not?"

"I'm not ready to be a mom."

"It would be nothing like that, more like being a big sister, I think." Darael offered.

Corinth sighed, "We'll wind up spending a lot of time together anyway, and she'll need some girl to talk to. Sure, I'll help you."

Darael smiled. "You're the best partner a Marshal could ask for. You know that, right?"

"Put that grin away or you'll give Essie more reason to speculate about something that just isn't there." Corinth warned. "Speaking of which, I should get her on the com and let the droid know that we'll probably be here for a few days."

"Good call. I'll go tell Bindo and the rest of the Council about my deal with An-Etté." Darael started walking away.

"Do we meet up back on the ship?" Corinth asked as she pulled out her comlink.

"Nah, I'll be at the nearest bar."

"But didn't we solve this issue?" Corinth was confused.

"You've been my partner for two years and you're still trying to figure me out? I'm just as much soldier as I am Jedi, and after talking to the Council I'll definitely need a good drink." Darael said.

"I'll join you there, good hunting," Corinth said.

"Good hunting," Darael replied as he walked off.

Darael had just rounded the corner to turn into the Council Chambers when he heard An-Etté running for him.

"Master Korvos, Master Korvos!" she was shouting. Darael turned around to face her and suddenly she was directly in front of him.

Darael was startled but laughed it off, "Neat trick, An-Etté. What do you need me for?"

"Master Korvos, I know what happened to the training saber." she said.

"And where's the rest of your stuff?" Darael asked. "Am I to assume that you turned me down?"

"No, Master Korvos, not at all, I just know that I can get it if I absolutely need to. I could walk without a lightsaber and I know that it would still be with me." An-Etté rushed to explain herself.

"Then come with me, we can explain what happened to the Council." Darael said. An-Etté fell in step behind him.

As they entered the Council Chambers they saw the ritual ending for a mass group of Jedi Knights and their newly appointed Padawans learners. As Darael and An-Etté waited by the side for the procession to exit, An-Etté smiling warmly at her former classmates, then they were motioned to stand before the Dantooine Teaching Council.

"Watchman Darael Korvos, if you have selected a Padawan then why did you not come in with the rest of the Knights?" Master Brianna asked.

"I was investigating a matter of some concern. Youngling An-Etté, who is here with me, will now discuss her findings with you." Darael said. An-Etté, who had been thrust into the unexpected situation rapidly, handled herself in exactly the manner that Darael had expected: gaping maw petrification.

Master Bindo laughed, "Speak, child, unless you absolutely want cobwebs in your mouth."

"Yes, Master Bindo." An-Etté took a moment to calm herself before speaking again. "The lightsaber that I used in the exhibition match was tainted by the Dark Side."

"And do you have that lightsaber to present to us as evidence?" Master Atton Rand asked. Darael sensed a shift of some sort.

"Yes, Master Rand. It is on the floor in front of you." An-Etté smiled. There was no roll or clatter or anything, the saber was simply there.

"Once again, neat trick." Darael smiled.

"I certainly think so," Rand chuckled. He then retrieved the saber from the floor. Upon touching it he frowned slightly. "You are correct, Youngling. There is a slight taint in this training weapon. Watchman Korvos, you said that you conducted an investigation. Would you be interested in telling us what you found?"

"I discovered that Youngling An-Etté has the force gift of technometry, in addition to her ability to seemingly fold space for short distances. As such, I left the investigation with her, allowing her time to meditate with the weapon so as to ascertain the reason for the taint. I was about to seek audience with this Council regarding an agreement made between An-Etté and myself when she sought me out with conclusions to the ponderings of her meditation. I invited her to seek audience with me so that all of us may hear her conclusions together." once again, Darael found himself in a military stance.

"Hmph. And you trust in her conclusions after less than an hour of deep meditation?" Bindo asked.

"I do, Master Bindo. I place my trust on her shoulders due to her ability to find and activate my lightsaber."

"You carry? I thought that you abandoned carrying after the Mandalorian Wars…" Brianna said.

"I gave my saber to the Order, but I was permitted to keep the crystal. My Master convinced Master Vandar to allow me to keep it. My saber will remain secret and I will not activate it to show you." Darael nodded to Bindo, who had helped him in the construction.

"Then by all means, let the Youngling tell us what she found." Bindo said. The other Masters nodded in agreement and looked expectantly at An-Etté.

"This saber's pieces were not all new, some were recycled parts." An-Etté began. "One of these recycled pieces was originally in the lightsaber of a powerful Dark-Sided woman. Some residual Dark Energy was in the piece and found ways to grow and spread throughout the blade without affecting the housed Bondar crystal. This is because the one who made this training saber was possessed by grief during the process, which the residue fed upon and consumed."

"And did you see who it was that crafted this saber?" Master Brianna asked.

"No need, Bri, I know exactly who made it." Master Rand answered. "I crafted this saber to occupy myself after Meetra's disappearance. If what you say is true, Youngling, and my grief had been consumed, it would certainly explain why I have not felt the same pain ever since then."

"And I am the one who disassembled the lightsaber of my former wife and added the pieces to the collection. I would recognize that presence anywhere." Bindo added.

"And why did you do that?" Brianna asked Bindo.

"The parts were needed. Many Sith lightsabers were taken apart so that there would be some stores of parts for new Jedi to pull from as they craft their own lightsabers. It was necessary." Bindo said.

"It is evident that we must now determine if any other tainted sabers have been created." Rand said. "But I believe that there was another reason as to why you were here, Watchman."

"That is correct, Master Rand. I have extended an invitation to An-Etté to become my Padawan. She has skills that would prove useful to the Balmorran people." Darael answered.

"One does not invite Padawans, Watchman. One allows the Force to guide their decisions before they choose a Padawan." Brianna said, huffing slightly.

"That doesn't matter, Brianna, or did Atris screw you up worse than I thought?" Bindo said, getting no response from his fellow Master. Bindo turned back to Darael, then looked at An-Etté. "What matters is this: have you accepted, An-Etté?"

"I have, Master Bindo." the young girl smiled.

"Then go on, get out of here! We certainly won't keep you." Rand laughed.

"We expect to spend a few days in preparation before going back to Balmorra. May I ask that my partner and I find room and board in the enclave when it proves necessary?" Darael asked.

"Of course, Watchman. You and yours are always welcome here." Brianna forced herself to smile. She was not fond of Revanchists, despite having been trained by one over Atris' objections.

"Then my Padawans and I take our leave of you. May the Force be with you." Darael said.

"And with you, Watchman." Rand said.

An-Etté seemed excited as they left the Council chambers, saying, "Master Korvos, what do you want me to do? When can we start my training?"

"Tomorrow. My partner is the Lady Marshal Nadine Corinth of Balmorra and I expect you to treat her with the respect she deserves. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Master Korvos."

"For now, I ask that you move your belongings into The Nymph, which is the green Lethisk-class freighter to your left." Darael pointed at the ship, suddenly remembering the issues with force sight. Then he pulled out his comlink and contacted the ship. "Sully, a Miraluka female is coming onboard the ship. Her name is An-Etté and she is my Padawan, free to come and go from The Nymph as she pleases. Make sure she feels comfortable."

"10-4, CO, but I'm not programmed for protocol functions." Su-11y's baritone came over the coms.

"Don't kill her and try not to let Sally get out of control, and I'm sure you'll be fine."

"Sir, yes sir." Su-11y responded. The coms were cut for just a brief moment before Corinth got on.

"I heard the news, An-Etté. Welcome to the team. Korvos, I'll see you soon. Sending coordinates." Corinth said before she too cut the radio chatter.

Darael checked the coordinates while an excited An-Etté asked, "You have a droid?"

"Yes. You'll meet it soon enough. I'll warn you to avoid messing with its programming, however, as you may find files in its head that you won't like seeing." Darael chuckled internally. "Technometry may also wish to be avoided."

"Yes, Master Korvos." she said.

"I expect to see you in the Enclave Mess Hall tomorrow morning. For now, I have colleagues to meet with, there are arrangements that must be made." Darael started walking away and An-Etté scrambled back into the enclave for her things.

"And here I thought that I'd never see you again," Corinth said when Darael sat at the bar in the seat next to hers.

"I'm hard to get rid of. Do you have any ideas on her cover story and disguise?" Darael asked. He made a quick gesture to the bartender, suggesting that he wanted whatever the soldiers got around there. Thankfully, all bartenders recognized the symbols of a Republic Navy Veteran Challenge Coin on the counter.

Darael was just being served when Corinth said, "Yep, and I've got the list of what we'll be needing right here. I'll need to take her clothes shopping tomorrow, and the goggles had to be custom ordered. As it turns out, not many Miraluka wear tinted shades like they were ordinary blind folk."

Darael laughed. "So long as they don't see that she doesn't have eyes, I think we'll be fine. Besides, fewer still carry a blaster pistol on a regular basis."

"Really, how'd you tell?" Corinth asked.

"The way she walks; she's accustomed to the weight of a blaster and the placement of a holster." Darael took a swig. "That and the blaster she had on her bed. Hey, Keep! This is a mighty fine drink you got me!"

"It better be, it's the last of my stock of Tarisian Ale, and I doubt I'll ever get any more!" the bartender laughed.

"Ah! I _knew_ it tasted like bantha backside!" Darael smiled.

"Hey, my cousin served on that ship too, barely made it out of the war alive. If I didn't hand you that crap he'd never let me hear the end of it."

"Tell him that Lt. Korvos sends his regards," Darael said, picking up his coin and spreading 1500 credits on the counter.

"Will do, Lieutenant, will do," the bartender eagerly took a moment to put the credits safely away before returning to the counter, but both Marshals were gone by that point, sitting in a private corner of the establishment.

"That didn't come out of our funds, did it?" Corinth looked concerned.

"Nah, it was all I had left from my Navy checks."

"All you had left?" she asked incredulously.

"Well, not all of it. I won't get any more until next month, though. Besides, I've got a decent cushion, I've never really spent my money. Don't worry about it, it won't affect our budget, I usually have a few thousand in reserve for military families down on their luck."

"But that much for a single drink?" Corinth was still struck by the mass of credits and Darael's generosity.

Darael looked up at her over his stein. "You do know that Taris is gone now, right? Kablooey, blammo, never recovering soon enough for Tarisian Ale to ever grace a dry throat again?"

"Yeah… Fair enough. And it is good that it won't affect our budget. I'm already pulling a few strings for tomorrow as it is." Corinth leaned back as she motioned to the nearest waitress that they were ready to order.

"What exactly are you getting her?" Darael asked, now curious.

"A swoop bike, a flight suit, stun baton, just a few other things, like some decent formal attire. Jedi have no sense for fashion, you especially, but we'll need to be at formal events every now and then and she'll need to look the part of being your niece."

"A swoop bike? Isn't it illegal for a minor to own a swoop bike?"

"Yes, Korvos, but she won't own it. I will. And a vehicle owned by a Marshal is not subject to the laws of the government so long as it is being operated by a Marshal or an appointee of the Marshal. Your Padawan An-Etté will technically be a junior officer, making her an appointee, meaning that she will not be subject to the same driving laws that most minors face. Provided she only ever uses it for official business or the apprehension of perpetrators, we won't have any issues." Corinth explained.

"But how will it fit in The Nymph?" Darael asked, taking another sip.

"I have Essie packing away the passenger quarters in the aft. There will still be room enough for the four of us. Besides, it's just the parts, she'll have to assemble it herself."

"Fair enough." Darael said, but then he sensed a presence. Master Jolee Bindo had entered the establishment, so Darael waved him over to their table.

"It is truly a pleasure to see you again, Lady Corinth," Bindo kissed her hand the moment he got to the table. "And less of a pleasure to see the Watchman with you."

Corinth smiled as she withdrew her hand. "Still as charming as the day I met you, Master Bindo."

"Today is still the day you met me, Lady Corinth." Bindo laughed.

"Precisely," Corinth grinned.

"So what are you doing here, Master Bindo? Do you frequent this establishment very often?" Darael asked.

"Well, every now and then Rand and I come here to get a break from Bri, but tonight I came looking for you, actually."

"For what purpose?" Corinth wondered.

"Just to let Darael know that he has a powerful destiny," Bindo said. He turned to Darael. "It doesn't swirl around you like it did Revan, but it does have the unbreakable focus of a waterjet."

"I appreciate that, but what does it have to do with anything?"

"I said it, so there! Let an old man ramble!"

"And if we don't?" Corinth asked him, her eyes wide and smiling at him.

"Bah, fine. I'm here to give you some advice. An-Etté's destiny is like a floodlight, searching for something, something that the Force decided only you two can provide for some reason." Bindo took a swig of a drink that a waitress brought to the table. He hadn't even ordered anything, so Darael estimated that his story of coming there with Rand was true.

"And what is it that the Force thinks that we can provide?" Darael asked, confused.

"I'd be stuck in the fifth level of Corellian Hell if I knew that, Watchman. Just… teach her to be a Jedi, a real one." Bindo sighed.

"And what do you mean by that?" Corinth asked.

"Compassion, love, loyalty, anxiety, the things that separate the living from the cold durasteel of a vibroblade." Bindo said.

"Or the heart of a handmaiden?" Darael piped up.

"Hah! Yeah, kid, that too. But teach her to understand, overcome, and control these things. You gave up on the code before, Watchman, and so did I. Remember what life was like outside the code and teach her to understand that." Bindo took another swig.

"Love?" Corinth spoke for Darael again. "Korvos goes out of his way to avoid anything that even borders lust. He can't teach love…"

"Lust and love are two very different things," Darael countered. "But my partner is correct, I can't teach that."

"Then live it. Teach by example." Bindo said. "Passion can lead to rage and fear, sure, but passion isn't the same thing as love. Love itself will save you, never condemn you. Just look at Master Shan!"

"I'm not the only one that you're getting to do this, am I?" Darael asked.

"No, you're not the only one, and I'll try to connect all of you before I die, but no promises." Bindo got up to leave, dropping a few credits on the table and taking his time to stretch and crack his old bones.

"Master Bindo," Darael started.

"What is it, whippersnapper?" Bindo groaned.

"You said that you recognized your wife's presence anywhere. You chose to give An-Etté that lightsaber, knowing that how she would react would pique my interest." Darael said.

Bindo raised his arms in surrender. "You caught me, but I think that I've won already. You're stuck with her."

"I know, and fighting that at all would have been counterproductive, but I want recompense."

"What do you want?" Bindo asked.

"Don't do anything to the saber. We'll have the crafting of her own lightsaber be one of her trials. I want the pieces of that saber to be presented to her before all the rest. If she at least purifies the pieces, then she passes in my book. Somehow I get the sense that she'll use something from that saber when making her own." Darael said.

"Alright, just promise me that you'll train her right. She deserves it."

"Don't worry, I know, and I will." Darael promised.


	2. Chapter 2

_I do not own Star Wars or any of the associated characters._

* * *

When Darael woke up the next morning he quickly found that his partner and his Padawan were gone.

"Sully?" Darael asked as he applied shaving cream to his jaw.

"Yes, Marshal?"

"Where have Lady Corinth and An-Etté gone?" Darael picked up his razor.

"Shopping, sir. Lady Corinth left instructions to leave you in your unconscious state in your bunk. Apparently you drank a little too hard last night."

Darael groaned. "Well, that would certainly explain the headache. I forgot that Tarisian Ale was the hard stuff. Maybe I shouldn't have finished it off."

"Do try not to cut yourself, Sir… I prefer your skin unblemished." Sa-11y spoke up.

"Me too, but if you keep interrupting the process I may as well shave with a Lightsaber."

"I could do it for you, Sir. I can do anything you want me to…"

"Sully, shut-down sequence, code 42-C. Set timer to one hour." Darael smiled as he heard the sound of the droid turning itself off. After another half-hour of morning preparations, including the hungover stumbling into casual wear, Darael was able to look himself in the mirror without cringing. He slung his axe and harness on over his blast-coat and walked off The Nymph, hitting the button that closed the docking ramp behind him and entering the code to lock the ship.

"Should I ask them where they've gone?" Darael asked himself, thinking about reaching for his comlink, but then he thought better. "Nah, it'll be more fun to surprise them."

Darael kneeled on the floor of the spaceport hangar and began meditating, closing his eyes and allowing himself to see through the Force. He saw trails, the leftover imprints from those who had traveled through the port before: a trandoshan mercenary here, a mandalorian doctor there. The path that Revan walked so many years before stood out like a beacon, the path that General Surik took looked like the void, an absolute absence of a trail rather than anything else. After some time of searching, Darael found Corinth's imprint, faint and prideful. He opened his eyes and saw the trail vividly. "Good enough, time to start tracking."

With his hands in his pockets Darael started following the trail, whistling as he was walking and slowly coming back to full sobriety. After a few narrowly avoided mishaps involving female restrooms and lingerie stores and a closed sullustan nightclub in the mall he found his target and his Padawan in a clothing store for mechanics.

"Korvos, over here!" Corinth motioned him to where they were exactly, which was helpful for avoiding the wayward path that they took through the shop. He blinked his eyes a few times and the trail disappeared from his vision.

"Did your drunken stumbling get you into any adventures on the way over here?" Corinth asked with a smirk.

"Nothing worse than what I've done voluntarily." Darael shrugged.

Corinth sighed. "And there you go again, Korvos, pulling the veteran card on me again."

"Actually I was going to bring up this one brothel where I narrowly escaped with my virginity, but I guess having fought in two bloody wars works pretty well too." Darael smiled.

"Oh! I was thinking of the wrong v-card!" Corinth laughed raucously. "Remind me sometime to avoid ever telling Essie about how you still have that one. The things that she'd design to fix that-"

"Are not worth discussing in public." Darael stopped his partner.

"Excuse me, Lady Marshal?" came An-Etté's voice from inside a nearby changing room.

"Oh, right," Corinth mumbled. She then raised her voice and replied, "Yes, An-Etté?"

"I think I have this on right, but I'm not sure."

"I keep forgetting that she's blind." Corinth sighed slightly. "Alright, Just come on out and I'll let you know."

An-Etté stepped out of the changing room with nothing over her face, displaying her lack of eyes openly. Taking everything else into account, Darael noted that An-Etté was in a light blue flight suit covered with generic mechanic insignias.

"You didn't have anything to be worried about, An-Etté, it's on properly. And It looks like we got it in the right size, too." Corinth said.

"Where do we get the goggles?" Darael asked.

"Like I told you last night, those are a custom order from a friend of mine on Balmorra. We won't be able to take care of that until we're back at home."

An-Etté tugged at the flight suit, a frown on her face. "It feels a little baggy…"

"More so than Jedi robes? I would've thought that a more open neck would make it less stifling on your ability to breathe." Corinth was concerned.

"Well, no, but-"

"You'll get used to it. As it turns out, most non-Jedi clothing manufacturers actually care about how it feels and moves." Darael started.

"With the exception of a certain few lady's garments fashion lines," Corinth interjected.

"My point is, Padawan, the clothing is going to feel alien and a little uncomfortable at first to those who were raised in the Order, but you'll eventually get used to it." Darael chuckled.

An-Etté smiled, seeming relieved, though it was difficult to read her for obvious reasons. "Thank you, Master Korvos."

"Don't thank me yet, Padawan. I'm only paying for half of this, the other half is coming out of Lady Corinth's paycheck."

"Hah!" Corinth burst into laughter. "Where on Earth did you get that idea? As soon as this trip is over you're gonna owe me a drink!"

"Ah…" Darael quickly realized that she was taking it all out of his share of the funds. While his own share was rather sizable due to his habit of freelancing every now and then, a guise so that he could go where he was needed on Balmorra or in the surrounding system, it wouldn't quite be enough to cover everything. That and he didn't actually touch any of the finances for the duo, Corinth handled their joint bank account.

"Master, you drink?" An-Etté asked incredulously.

"Of course I do. Why do you think that I was late in joining you?"

"Lady Marshal Corinth said that you had left to take care of some business. Did you really spend all of that time in a bar?"

"No, I was getting back to fully functioning sobriety and overcoming my hangover."

"But that Council says that Jedi need to always have full control over what they do and should avoid drinking!" An-Etté was shocked.

"Who gives a frigate what the Council thinks?" Corinth asked. "Master Bindo asked Darael to train you differently than the rest, that's why we're going through everything here today, getting you the gear that you'll need to be undercover on Balmorra."

"I'm sorry, Lady Marshal, but what do you mean by different?" An-Etté asked.

"Nothing major, Padawan, but expect to get a wrench thrown into almost everything that Master Brianna told you a Jedi should and should not do." Darael told her. "Brianna was the one who told you about the drinking thing, right?"

"Well, yes, Master Korvos, but doesn't every member of the Council speak for the Council?"

"No. And in all honesty I could just use the Force to keep myself sober and not suffer through a hangover, but that isn't the point of my training you." Darael folded his arms and leaned against a nearby wall. Corinth left to go buy the clothes that An-Etté was in.

"Then what is the point, Master?" An-Etté asked.

"To teach you how to live, not just how to use the Force and be a good Jedi. Don't worry, I'll teach about how to avoid the Dark Side and all that other stuff like Lightsaber Combat, but there will be significantly different undertones." Darael motioned to the training lightsaber that she had clipped to her belt.

"Why, Master Korvos?"

"We aren't paragons, and we shouldn't try to be, but not everything is a path to the Dark Side. Alcohol, in and of itself, is not the Dark Side, it only lowers the inhibitions of those under its sway. An abusive father, for example, would not be quite so abusive when drunk unless he'd already had the idea to be abusive." Darael waved his hands about as he spoke, an awkward habit that usually worked, but he caught himself when he realized that all An-Etté saw was probably a fuzzy Force glow.

"I… I think that I understand, Master." An-Etté said after a few second's contemplation.

Corinth returned to them. "We're all done here. Time to go find the next shop in this marketplace."

Darael chuckled, "I hadn't even realized that Dantooine had a place like this. I always stuck to the Academy."

"Well, people live here, after all. There had to be some hubs like this somewhere. I do prefer it to Balmorra's, however." Corinth sighed as the three of them walked out of the shop.

"And why is that, Lady Marshal?" An-Etté asked.

"It's all so open and free. The air here is clean and there aren't plastisteel doors with triple locks guarding the shops." Corinth breathed in heavily, then sighed with exuberant bliss. Suddenly she turned to look at Darael. "Korvos! Our bags, I need you to go get them!"

"Alright, we haven't gone far." Darael sighed and returned to the shop to pick up the almost ridiculous amount of bags. Luckily, it wasn't such a massive amount that he had to resort to the Force in order to accomplish the task. The mass of a new wardrobe weighing him down, Darael walked quickly to rejoin his partner and his Padawan.

Curiously, as the trio was walking towards wherever Corinth had decided their next destination was she screamed. It was high and giddy, perhaps more of a squeal than a scream, but it hurt just the same. By the time that Darael had shifted the bags so as to see more than what was directly ahead of him Corinth was gone.

"Master Korvos, why has the Lady Marshal gone to a pet store?" An-Etté asked.

"I have no idea. How could you tell it was a pet store?"

"The Force flows differently through animals, Master. Right now it seems that the Lady Marshal is obsessed with cuddling a small one." An-Etté replied.

"They have Loth Cats!" Corinth yelled back, filled with glee.

"Do you not want to join her, Padawan?" Darael chuckled.

"I do not see any reason to, Master. We're here to obtain materials for the mission, aren't we?"

Darael sensed a slight trembling in An-Etté's voice.

"Lesson number one in living, my young apprentice. Join Lady Corinth in the pet store and find out why Loth Cats are cute." Darael motioned his Padawan away. "Lady Corinth, I'll go drop this all off on the Nymph and will be right back."

"So cute! Here you go, An-Etté, hold one." Darael heard a soft thump.

"It's so soft…" An-Etté said in a reverent manner. There was a second thump when An-Etté buried her face in the fur of the Loth Cat, a loud feline yelp accompanying it.

"We're getting one," Corinth informed the still waiting-for-a-response Darael.

"But Lady Marshal, aren't we supposed to avoid doing things simply because we want to?" An-Etté's voice was muffled through the beast that was growing more perturbed by the second.

"Do you want one?" Corinth asked very sweetly.

"Yes."

"Why?" Corinth pressed.

"Because it is soft and warm and I just want it." An-Etté tried to say. While the words could have been better enunciated the general feeling of the statements must have gotten through to the Loth Cat, which calmed down significantly, despite the face on its side.

"Then we're getting one," Corinth said.

"But!"

"No buts, An-Etté. I don't care about what the Jedi Code says, it's ok to be a living, breathing person and want things that make you happy." Corinth said.

"Alright, Lady Marshal."

"By the way, thank you for volunteering to take care of it."

"What?" An-Etté asked Corinth.

"And don't call me Lady Marshal except in formal situations, and you should definitely stop calling Korvos Master."

"Then what should I refer to you as?"

"Nadine. Please call me Nadine. But Korvos you should call… Uncle. Uncle or Marshal, but not Master. You really can't give us away while we're on Balmorra." Corinth replied.

"Can I head back to my boat yet?" Darael asked.

"What are you doing still here? The parts for the Aerochaser will arrive at the dock soon and you'll need to sign off on them!" Corinth shooed her partner away. "And don't forget to come back as soon as that's done! I'll send you the coordinates for where we'll be."

"Alright, alright!" Darael laughed, lugging all of the purchases back along his original path there. When he eventually got back to The Nymph he saw a Zabrak waiting with a series of boxes on a repulsorlift just outside the bay doors.

"I'd shake your hand, sir, but I've got some slight issues with carrying all of this," Darael said.

"I can see that, but thankfully I don't need a written signature. Is this your ship?" the Zabrak asked.

"Yes it is. The Nymph, Lethisk Class Armed Freighter, no carbon scoring from cannon fire, green highlights on a cobalt grey hull. I'm Marshal Korvos from Balmorra, and you are?"

"Tarath Vuln, Marshal. Can I get your vocal signature as to your receiving this package?" Darael heard the Zabrak make a few shifts to the datapad in his hand.

"I, Marshal Korvos, representative of the crew of The Nymph, have received this package." Darael sighed as he pushed the button for the bay doors to open.

"Thank you very much, Marshal. Would you like any help unloading?" the Zabrak asked.

"Yes, actually. I'll get these bags into The Nymph and then I'll be right back out to pick up the boxes." Darael sighed as he walked towards The Nymph. "Sully, open up the door!"

The sentinel droid stood in the airlock of The Nymph as the ramp descended for Darael's entrance. As soon as he was a few meters inside Darael dropped all of the bags, figuring that his female companions could handle it when they got back. Quickly, Darael rushed over to meet the Zabrak delivery man and took the first crate from his hands.

"These are lighter than I'd expected." Darael laughed.

"It's the packaging. There are too many parts for shipping's liking, so they pack up as many of the delicate ones as best they can." Vuln chuckled.

"So… All of them?" Darael asked as he grabbed another crate off the repulsorlift.

"Just about. Thankfully, we've got them mostly in at this point." Vuln grunted as he lowered a heavier crate onto the deck of The Nymph.

"Would you come down here and help me with the fins?" Darael asked.

"Right! Be right with you!" Vuln rushed down the ramp and helped Darael to lift the first of the two longer crates.

"Oh, my… Aren't you the handsome one… May I keep him, Master Korvos?" Sa-11y asked, watching the two as they worked.

"Uh…" Vuln started.

"Bug in the heuristic processor, but it would take a full memory wipe to get rid of it and we need its skills," Darael explained.

"Ah, they need me!" Sa-11y sighed.

"Sully, shut Sally up and help us out with these crates," Darael ordered.

"Sir, yes sir." Su-11y stiffened and made a brief salute before taking a crate in each hand.

After a couple more trips the whole mass of crates had been moved.

"Thank you for your help." Darael shook the delivery man's hand.

"I get paid the same regardless of who I help with what, so I may as well. Besides, the company likes getting the repulsorlifts back faster and this speeds up the process." Vuln said.

"I suppose that it's just another example of a Jedi dominated planet," Darael said.

"Perhaps. Safe travels, Marshal." Vuln took the repulsorlift and scrambled away.

"You too." Darael waved him off before checking his comlink for directions from Corinth. When he saw that none had yet been received he elected it was a better alternative to go in the direction of the market than to stay behind with whichever personality was more recently dominant.

Approximately halfway towards the market Corinth sent him a detailed series of directions, claiming that she didn't know the exact address but that they had found the perfect place. Darael hadn't a clue as to what that actually meant but he'd learned to trust his partner long ago. He eventually found Corinth in a high-end clothing store, another mound of shopping bags beside her, including a cage for a single Loth Cat.

"I suppose that it's my job to get this back to the ship, then?" Darael really didn't care for shopping sprees, but he'd posed going to Dantooine as a vacation so he supposed that he opened the door for such activities as this.

"Not yet, Korvos. You stay right here until the tailor droid has your measurements."

"What?"

"And I need you to strip."

"Again, what?"

Corinth stuck out her tongue at Darael for a moment. "Remember how I said that you have no fashion sense? Well, the droids at this establishment can tailor some decent formal attire for you in an hour. Not the best, but I'd never let you wear the best; you'd ruin it too quickly."

"Why do I need this?" Darael sighed.

"Because I say so, Korvos. The last time they honored us for our actions you were in dusty battle armor."

"And what's wrong with that?" Darael asked.

"You were out of place and completely embarrassed me!" Corinth huffed.

"How was I supposed to know that it was the sort of occasion that you would wear an evening gown to?"

"The description in the invitation, maybe? You could've at least worn some sort of old military uniform!"

"I had to ditch those to maintain my cover, you know that." Darael shrugged.

Corinth buried her face in her hands, sighing. "I guess it doesn't matter. It's never going to happen that way again, just leave everything to me."

"Alright, alright. But what exactly have you done with my Padawan?" Darael raised his hands in surrender.

"She's in a changing room, trying on a few gowns. She does, after all, need a complete wardrobe overhaul." Corinth replied. "You Jedi really have no sense of fashion, or decorum, or anything even remotely like that."

"Have we at least figured out what to name the cat?" Darael chuckled.

"Right now it's still just 'the cat,' but I'm sure that An-Etté will figure out something while we're en route to Vanquo."

"Vanquo?" Darael shuddered slightly. "What are we going there for?"

"You know my friend on Balmorra for the goggles?" Corinth asked. Darael nodded his head but failed to see where this was going. "Well, as it turns out she assigned the contract to a subsidiary group on Vanquo who were better equipped to outfit the custom order."

"I… Isn't Vanquo a mining world?" Darael asked.

"Yep. We'll be getting her a pair of welding goggles." Corinth smirked. "Wasn't Vanquo also one of the major battlegrounds of the Mandalorian War?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Then we have a few graves to visit. I fully intend to pay my respects to the soldiers there." Corinth said.

"Then I suppose that I should, as well." Darael sighed.

"Nadine?" An-Etté spoke up. Darael turned and saw her in the same mechanic garb that she'd donned earlier, but she was carrying a series of dresses in her arms.

"Yes, An-Etté?" Corinth said. "Have you picked out the ones that you like?"

"Yes, the three on top are the most comfortable." An-Etté said.

"Good choices. We'll find more clothes as the situations prove necessary on Balmorra. Here-" Corinth took the clothes from An-Etté's arms. "I'll deal with the purchase and meet you back on the ship. Darael, I still need you to strip. There's a measuring room back and to your left."

"Yeah, yeah…" Darael laughed as he walked away, watching An-Etté pick up the bags out of the corner of his eye.

Once he was in the stall he found the hooks inside to be very useful. One for his coat, one for his halberd and harness, and so on. He raised his arms and let the cameras in the stall scan him. A minute later a droid's mechanized voice burst over the intercom, "Thank you very much. The suit will be delivered within the day."

The moment that Darael stepped out of the stall Corinth was waiting for him.

"So what color is it going to be?" Darael asked.

"One that will make women wish that you weren't a Jedi. Don't worry about it, I have it all taken care of." Corinth smiled.

"Alright then." Darael shrugged, completely uncaring as to whether or not his appearance was attractive to anybody. "But most women don't know I'm a Jedi."

"Then it will be even more effective, especially once I teach you how to wear it properly." Corinth grabbed his arm and started pulling him. "But come on, we're done here. Let's get back to The Nymph. If we hurry we'll catch up with An-Etté before she gets there." Darael laughed before making Corinth let go of him. They were walking at a brisk pace, not being saddled with the large amount of bags like An-Etté was, and soon saw her when they turned around a corner, but definitely not in the way that they'd hoped to see her.

An-Etté was facing a group of armed bandits, humanoid in feature but their masks made it impossible to define the exact species for most of them. A couple of them were definitely Zabrak, however. An-Etté had already drawn and activated her lightsaber.

Corinth dropped the few bags that she had been carrying and facepalmed.

Darael wasted no time in looking for a way to fix the situation without ruining everything they'd just bought in the process. He looked and found no easy solution.

"I guess that we just have to let her deal with them on her own." Darael sighed.

"No, we need to get her and get off planet as quickly as possible. Her drawing a lightsaber like that will only serve to endanger our cover in the long run, so we can't be here any longer than we have to be." Corinth sighed.

"Then we'll hit them like we always do. I'll take the left." Darael started running and drew the halberd. Corinth dashed forward as well.

Darael jumped off a nearby wall and hit the closest bandit with the haft of his halberd, knocking him out and throwing him to the ground. As the first bandit fell Darael allowed himself to fall with him, rolling on the ground towards the next bandit. Darael pushed his haft forward into the shins of that one, tripping him as Darael sprang up to block a jab from a vibrodagger, guiding the arm aside with a slight push from the flat of the axe heads.

Out of the corner of his eye, Darael saw Corinth practically dancing through her share of opponents. A spinning kick hit one bandit into another as she dropped down to sweep them off their feet and onto their backs.

Darael brought the tips of the axe heads to the chest of the man whose stab he'd evaded. "I recommend that all of you get out of here, now."

"What are you people?" he asked.

"Balmorran Marshals, now go before the authorities get here." Corinth said.

"What?"

"This is your only chance…" Darael warned. The bandit's eyes went wide as he and the only other standing ones took their friends and left as fast as they could. An-Etté was still standing where she had been at the beginning, her mouth gaping.

"Turn that thing off before you get yourself into even more trouble," Darael said.

"But Master Korvos, they were robbing a store, isn't it my duty to do something about that?" An-Etté asked as she shut off the lightsaber.

"It is, but you need to learn to use weapons other than a lightsaber, or we'll be reassigned far too soon."

"I'll grab a stun baton for her on Vanquo," Corinth said. She reached for her comlink and sent a message to The Nymph. "Essie, prep The Nymph for flight. We're leaving ASAP."

"Pick up the bags, An-Etté. We're getting out of Dodge." Darael said as he grabbed the bags that Corinth had dropped.

"Mast- Marshal Korvos, why do we need to leave so quickly?" An-Etté asked.

"It would be impossible to erase all of those cameras that just saw what happened, and we need a minimum on the number of people who know that you're a Jedi," Darael said.

"But-"

"Jedi are not trusted on Balmorra. If they knew that I was assigned to the system as Watchman they would throw me out as soon as look at us. Lady Corinth's career would be ruined and Balmorran trade with the Republic would stagnate. We can't risk any more mistakes here." Darael said gravely.

An-Etté was silent all the way back to The Nymph. They settled on the main deck but left the ramp open.

"Now we wait." Corinth whistled.

"But for what?" An-Etté blurted.

"For Darael's suit, Padawan. If we were to jump out immediately that would only attract more attention. We need to blend back in, and waiting for a delivery provides hours of unimportant footage. Now go organize your new wardrobe." Corinth explained. An-Etté picked up a few of the bags and walked into her room.

"Ugh… Korvos, you promised me that I wouldn't feel like a mother." Corinth sighed as she leaned against a wall.

"Lady Corinth, I can assure you that motherhood involves so much more than teaching a naive teenager." Darael said.

"More of that 'big sister' crap that you tried yesterday?" Corinth offered a wry smile.

"I guess, yeah. But she's learning quickly. Any questions that she asks now will serve her well in the future." Darael said. "And if she is destined for life as a Watchman, like me, then she'll need your help more than anything. I can't teach a blind girl about fashion or how to be a woman and not stand out in a crowd."

"Women always stand out, Korvos, we just choose the degree to which we do." Corinth corrected him.

Darael waved it off. "Regardless, I can't teach her those subtle nuances. And I'm sure that there's only so much that she'll actually be able to pick up as her life goes on, but anything will be helpful."

"So now you've got me stuck helping an organization that my bosses, my family, and my entire planet think I should have absolutely nothing to do with."

"Pretty much. Thank you, by the way." Darael smiled.

"You're welcome, I guess." Corinth sighed. She looked out into the docking bay at the emptiness. "We've got a few hours still before the suit arrives. We'll have to find some way to entertain ourselves because bickering like an old married couple gets old quick."

"Nice pun." Darael smiled.

"You're not helping." Corinth replied.

"I count 572 ways for you to entertain each other and a significantly smaller number of ways to entertain yourselves," Sa-11y interjected over the intercom.

"And you're definitely not helping!" Corinth yelled up to the cockpit.

"There's a holonet projector in the mess hall. I plan to see what's streaming on Dantooine right now." Darael said as he walked further into The Nymph.

"There are three intimate entertainment services that stream to-"

"Sully, permanently block those channels from The Nymph, and put a restrictor on the channels that Sally can access." Darael opened the aft door into the mess hall.

"Sir, yes sir."

Corinth soon joined Darael on the couch.

"Anything good?" she asked.

"Just reruns of Republic Commando Season 3 and a production of Loving Force." Darael said.

"I love Loving Force! Where are they in it?"

"The ending, unfortunately. Luckily, most Jedi don't know that play exists." Darael laughed.

"Ugh… I can't cry at the ending properly without the buildup, and I'd say that all Jedi could be a bit more like Quillian." Corinth pouted.

"Quillian?"

"The Jedi in Loving Force, you know, the one who falls in love with The Force?"

"Such a terrible plot. How it still has productions is beyond me." Darael yawned.

"Quit being so dense and maybe you'll see it, Korvos. Besides, it does a good job of poking holes in Jedi philosophy and showing off what a good Jedi should be, the kind of Jedi that Balmorrans would be ok with." Corinth said.

"The kind of Jedi that I am not. The Force never personified herself to me, not for helping me train and definitely not to warm my bed."

Corinth punched Darael in the arm for that comment, despite her laughter.

"What's going on?" An-Etté asked from the main deck.

"A debate over what makes proper drama, Padawan, nothing more," Darael said.

After another few hours of wardrobe sorting and news monitoring, the suit arrived. Corinth wouldn't even let Darael see it, saying, "This only gets taken out of the bag for special occasions, so I'm hanging it up in my room, not yours."

Thankfully, it only took a few minutes to finish getting the clearance codes for launch. The Nymph departed Dantooine without further incident.


	3. Chapter 3

_I do not own Star Wars or any of the derivative characters._

* * *

Su-11y's hand appendage was on a lever as it said, "Departing hyperspace in T-Minus fifteen seconds."

In the mess hall, Darael strapped himself into the couch as he heard Su-11y's voice over the intercom. He was wringing his hands and his face showed distinct signs of an utter lack of soberness.

In the cockpit, in the seats next to Su-11y, Corinth and An-Etté were strapped in. Corinth always enjoyed watching the stars slow down from within the cockpit, the streams of light in hyperspace phasing back into bright pinholes in the darkness.

An-Etté, being physically blind, saw a different perspective. She felt the change in speed, certainly, but mostly she was obsessed with seeing a new planet for the first time.

Today, unfortunately, she was disappointed.

"What happened here?" An-Etté asked, shaking slightly.

"The wars, An-Etté. They trashed this planet even more than they did Balmorra, and now the only way that Vanquo continues to survive is the importation of gas philters to shift breathable air from the mining by-products." Corinth sighed.

"I see some light in certain places, some life, but everything else…" An-Etté shivered.

"Dead. A literal wasteland filled with bodies that will never get a proper burial. Nature may eventually reclaim, but that would require a shift in the Vanquo government such that the mining contracts be lessened and foliage be imported, even if just for a time." Darael said as he stumbled up the slight ramp into the cockpit.

"Korvos, you've been drinking again!" Corinth humphed.

"Yeah, well, I needed it. Vanquo is not a good place." Darael sighed as he looked out at the planet.

"Excuse me, sir, but we have a message for the captain." Sa-11y interrupted.

"Patch it through to the mess hall. I'll deal with it in there." Darael grumbled as he made his way back.

Corinth quickly unfastened herself. "I'll help. He's not always at his best when intoxicated, even if only slightly."

An-Etté nodded and started to unfasten herself as well but Corinth motioned for her to stop. "We don't need you to be seen near Korvos. He's already risked his cover for you, but if it looks like he's taken a Padawan then everyone will start to realize that you're both Jedi. We can't afford for that to happen."

An-Etté sighed, but complied with the direction as Corinth stood up and met Darael in the mess hall. When Corinth walked in through the fore door to the hall she saw Darael at military attention, his face grim. When she saw what was peering through the other side of the viewing screen, she understood why.

"My name is Clark of Clan Thakre." said the Mandalorian in red Neo-Crusader Armor. "We have reason to suspect that you are in possession of property stolen from our employers. Subject yourself to voluntary search or we will fire ion cannons and search you involuntarily."

"With all respect due to Clan Thakre, What exactly is your privateering jurisdiction?" Corinth said.

The Mandalorian turned to her. "Here and now. You need not know anything else."

"Search this vessel and Balmorra will warrant a complaint against you and your company." Corinth warned, speaking before Darael got a chance to open his mouth and say something stupid.

"Complaints do not concern my clients. Once again I issue the ultimatum: voluntary search and seizure or be blasted from the sky."

"Then we issue our response," Darael smiled.

"What do you think you're doing?" Corinth asked in a hushed and infuriated tone.

"Go ahead and try." Darael laughed. Corinth rushed to turn off the viewing screen then raced to the cockpit.

"Dive!" she yelled.

"Gladly…" Sa-11y replied, only for The Nymph to get rocked around by a hit on the aft engines. "Oh, that kind of dive!" Sa-11y maneuvered The Nymph downwards, towards the planet's surface.

Corinth fastened herself quickly and took hold of the communications center. "Vanquo Port Authority, this is Lethisk Class Freighter The Nymph, requesting permission for emergency landing. Repeat, Vanquo Port Authority, this is…"

Darael laughed as he rushed into the cockpit, jumping into the seat next to An-Etté as lights flickered to life on the screen in front of him. He flicked a few switches as machinery whirred into place.

"What's happening?" An-Etté asked, worried.

"I think I just annoyed the local Mandalorian pirate. This should be fun." Darael laughed.

"Viceroy Padawan Alpha, this is Lyra Capital Fynock Tibanna Najarka, requesting permission for -" the ship was rocked by another blast.

"Sir, they did not hit us that time, though it was close. Our shields are quickly losing power." Su-11y said.

"Blast! They launched a squad of fighters!" Corinth said. "One full wing of Star Sabers!"

"There's no way that we'll be able to evade them all!" Darael yelled, flipping a switch to activate the blaster cannons. "An-Etté, go to the aft of the ship and see what you can do about fixing the shields!"

"Yes, Mas-Marshal Korvos!" An-Etté tried to get up and run towards the aft mechanics panels, but the G-forces threw her into them instead. "Ow!"

"Sully, decrease the incline, we shouldn't be that steep!" Darael said. "An-Etté, can you move?"

"Yes, Master." An-Etté rubbed her head to soothe the pain as she pulled tools out of her belt and started running diagnostics on the panels.

"We don't have time for diagnostics, just fix it!" Darael yelled to the back.

"But Master!"

"I can't shake them," Su-11y stated.

"Then take over on the panel front!" Darael turned around from the gunner screen for a moment. He used the Force to rip Su-11y and An-Etté from their respective positions and put them where the other had previously been. Su-11y responded by immediately magnetizing it's legs and holding steady to work on the shields properly.

An-Etté had a harder time adjusting. "What?"

"I thought you told me that you were a pilot!" Darael yelled at the screen in front of him, slowly taking out the red blips of the enemy.

"I am!" An-Etté gripped the stick and did her best to hold the ship steady.

"Then fly us down!" Darael said. "Corinth, where are we landing?"

"VPA has given us permission to land at Bay 23A, with Sel Zonn Station's 4B as an alternate!"

"Where?" An-Etté asked.

"Corinth, plug the plan into the computer. An-Etté should be able to read the data directly from the ship after-"

"Done! An-Etté, take us down!"

Suddenly The Nymph lurched as the ship was spinning through atmosphere. Blaster bolts and ion blasts were no longer visible due to the heat of entering atmosphere. Then, just as quickly as the spinning began, it stopped and The Nymph levelled out.

"Our current altitude is 3.2 meters, please pull up." said the emergency systems in The Nymph.

"What are you doing?" Corinth asked, bracing herself against the nearest computer.

"Hah! She's staying low to the ground, making it more difficult for fighters to come after us." Darael laughed heartily. "But it looks like one is still on our tail, let's see if we can shake him off!"

"Yes, Master." An-Etté pulled up on the stick and then to the left, lurching The Nymph every which way, but the one bogey stayed on their tail.

"He's in the slipstream, and he's catching up fast!" Darael warned.

"Then shoot him!" Corinth yelled.

"The cannons only have a 270-degree field of fire, we can't shoot behind us."

"Then use the other cannons!" Corinth yelled.

Darael smiled. "No need."

The Nymph soared upwards on its repulsorlifts, spinning slightly and slowly, then descending into a circular opening. The fighter took a sharp right and flew off.

"What?" Corinth asked.

"We're on the surface now, outside of their jurisdiction, and shooting down a docking ship is illegal and immoral." Darael sighed as he allowed himself to breathe.

"Well sure, on Balmorra, but on this savage world?" Corinth huffed.

"You'd be surprised." Darael chuckled.

"I'm sure that she'd be surprised by the size of your - knowledge concerning galactic affairs, Sir." Sa-11y switched to Su-11y mid-sentence.

"Thank you for your comments, Essie." Corinth groaned.

"Lady Marshal Corinth, it is always a pleasure to feel your appreciation," Sa-11y replied happily.

"Come on," Darael motioned to the others. "Now we get to deal with the Port Authorities." Darael got up from his seat in the gunnery position, slinging his harness onto his back over his blast coat.

"Essie, lower the ramp," Corinth ordered. The gate descended while the airlock opened. Darael and Corinth positioned themselves to exit the ship, obviously experienced and steeling themselves for the upset and invasive Port Authorities.

An-Etté, however, showed her inexperience. "What's going on?"

"You'll want to be at our side. Leave Sully to take care of the ship, it's more than capable of defending her and getting her refueled." Darael informed An-Etté as he was checking his appearance in a mirror.

An-Etté rushed to stand between Corinth and Darael. Outside in the natural light were two uniformed VPA guards.

"Who requested emergency landing access?" the smaller one asked.

"That would be me." Corinth sighed. "I imagine that you have some questions."

"That we do," the smaller one motioned for his burlier counterpart to move forward. The burly one took out a set of handcuffs. "We also have reason to believe that you are carrying something stolen. Please comply with our questioning or we will be forced to use violence."

Corinth quickly whisked out a datapad. "We have diplomatic immunity as representatives of the Balmorran Marshals, however, we will comply in the interest of diplomatic relations between our planetary governments. We are willing to leave our blasters onboard The Nymph, and our droid will help you to have full access to the ship. On this datapad is a copy of our manifest. Do you have anything further to ask of us?"

Obviously shocked, the smaller one put an arm in front of the burly one. "No, ma'am, I don't believe that we have any further quarrel, save the Vibro-Axe."

"I'm afraid that the Vibro-Axe stays with my partner. He has all the permits if you'd like to see them."

"Weaponry of any kind is restricted on the surface of Vanquo. If he will not part with the weapon then we will have no choice but to take him into custody and restrain him to your ship."

Darael, however, was rifling through paperwork on the deck. "Vanquo, Vanquo… Ah!"

"What?" the smaller one asked.

"My contact. Excuse me for a moment, I have a call to make." Darael said. "Could I have your holocommunicator?"

"Protocol is that you do get one call to contact a lawyer…" he said, slowly pulling out the holocom. Corinth grabbed it quickly and tossed it to Darael, much to the protest of the VPA Officials. Darael caught it and started punching in a few numbers. Almost immediately a blue image of a man dressed in High-Ranking Republic Navy Regalia appeared.

"Korvos? I haven't used this line in years, what are you doing on Vanquo?" the image asked.

"Paying my respects to the dead. I need to get there unimpeded." Darael explained.

"And who is presently in your way?" the image asked.

"VPA. They seem to think that we're in possession of stolen property."

"And are you?"

"If I was then I wouldn't have stopped here, I would have taken it all the way back to Balmorra to return it to its proper owner."

"Right, you're a Marshall now. Wait, are you The Nymph?"

"She is my ship, yes."

"She was seized through civil forfeiture on Balmorra?"

"Yes."

"Then I'll get that expedited through the system. Not every bit of paperwork gets through between Balmorra and the Republic servers."

"Much obliged," Darael grinned.

"Put a rose or two down there for me, will you? I'm a bit busy here in the office with the paper pushers."

"Will do, sir." Darael said, giving a brief salute.

"Shut up, civvie." the image laughed before blinking out. Darael tossed the holocom back to the small official, just in time for a beeping sound coming from the larger official's back pocket.

As the brute put away the handcuffs he read the message and proceeded to grab the smaller one under his arm prior to walking away. He looked over his shoulder back at Darael and said, "Have a pleasant stay on Vanquo, Captain. If anyone gives you any trouble about your weapons don't hesitate to ignore them."

Corinth looked over at Darael. "And what was that about Korvos?"

"My old CO runs the VPA, and apparently the brutish one can be trusted." Darael shrugged. "Now, if I recall correctly there should be a decent watering hole just west of here."

"Don't give me that, Korvos, we're here for a reason, not for you to get drunk again." Corinth sighed.

"And how do you propose that we get off-world without being blown out of the sky?" Darael asked.

"By ensuring that the whole Republic and every organization tied to them understands that The Nymph was obtained through legal action and that we do not carry illegitimate cargo," Corinth replied.

"Are you absolutely certain that we're not breaking any laws?" An-Etté asked.

"Well, we weren't until Darael called in a favor from his old CO. Technically that's tampering with the local jurisdiction's justice system."

"No it isn't, it's just speeding it up a little, some manual labor to get the machines running. It's like kicking an engine." Darael said.

"And is anyone going to do anything about that?" An-Etté asked.

"I doubt it, but we should still probably spend as little time as possible here before we get back to Balmorra. I don't like the feel of this place; I'm worried that those pirates are going to be an issue down here on the surface as well." Corinth said. "An-Etté, stay on the ship until Korvos and I return. We'll get your goggles and some other miscellaneous supplies prior to launch. Don't blow yourself up, and don't listen to Essie."

"Nah, if you'd like you can come with me to explore the place. There's someone who I'd like you to meet." Darael offered. Corinth threw him a dirty glance.

"What? There really is someone who she should meet, for the purpose of her edification regarding the galaxy and living." Darael sputtered out.

"And who would that be, an old war buddy?" Corinth asked.

"Yes, actually, but not my old CO. A guy from the other side of it, actually."

"Mandalorian?"

"No, Ex-Jedi. He left the Order same as me after the Mandalorian Wars, but he never signed on with the Republic afterward."

"You left the Order?" An-Etté asked, wide-eyed.

"Yeah, same as a lot of Revanchists. The only one who went back was General Meetra Surik, but I'm sure you've heard plenty about her from Master Rand in your history lessons. Now don't get your thoughts in a tumble, it's not as big a deal as Brianna makes leaving the Order out to be, but we all had our own reasons. It's good for you to be exposed to reasons other than my own." Darael explained.

"Hmph. Well, you're her Master, Korvos. I guess it's up to you whether or not we lose our jobs and get tried for treason." Corinth pressed her face into her palm.

"Trust me on this one, Lady Corinth, it won't come to that. And if it does, I know a few places to get you a good job, a respectable one." Darael smiled.

"So long as I don't wind up like my cousin…" Corinth exhaled.

"What happened to your cousin?" An-Etté asked.

"A career path that shouldn't ever be in your head, An-Etté, so I won't say it out loud." Corinth said as she started walking out of the docking bay.

As soon as the two groups had gone their separate ways Darael said, "Her cousin is a whore."

"What?" An-Etté exclaimed.

"Yep, and a pretty good one, from what I've heard. She treats it seriously and like an art form." Darael said. "Ah, good, the bar!"

"But if they're cousins then wouldn't she be of royal blood? Why would she do such a thing?"

"Actually, that cousin, in particular, is closer to the figurehead throne than Lady Corinth is, and she does it because she decided that she needed money. Everything's legal, she keeps the girls in her establishment well-protected, physically, mentally and sexually. Whenever there's patron who wants too much or tries to be abusive she calls up the local BalSec captain to send a few officers down to deal with the perpetrator. That or the Captain takes care of it personally." Darael said, sitting down at the bar. "A shot of your best for me and some milk for my mechanic, here."

The bartender would have questioned the sight of an underaged mechanic with a hat down over her eyes, but he'd long since learned not to question men in long coats with vibro-axes. Consequently, a shot of Telosian Whiskey and a glass of Blue Milk were promptly in front of the duo.

"The Captain would deal with that personally?"

"Sure, he wouldn't want his daughter, one of the girls there, harmed, and ever since his wife died he's been a regular, but just for the live music in the main room, nothing else."

An-Etté was visibly stunned by the frankness of her Master.

"Fine then, I'll explain it to you as easily as I can. Lady Corinth's cousin is a Madame and worked her way up to that position. According to her, she did it for the money and the fun. On Balmorra companionship is just another regulated job, taxes and government protections and everything. Many of those protections were passed as a direct result of her influence and royal status, despite her being both ostracized and officially disowned by the family."

"But isn't prostitution illegal in the Republic?"

"Yes, but Balmorra isn't officially a part of the Republic. That's why we're undercover when we're there. I'm sure that you'll also realize that prostitution in the Republic is generally dirty, unsafe, and under-the-table, which is why it's illegal, so that those who practice it can be taken out of the situation and those who run it can be brought in so as to stop endangering their workers. Companionship on Balmorra is cleaner and safer in every respect, though as a result it is less profitable. It turns out that being clean and safe isn't what the regulars of the Red-Light District on Nar Shaddaa want."

"And may I ask why you know so much?" An-Etté queried.

"I'm pretty good friends with her. I almost went 'undercover' with her when she offered, but I thought better of it, and she wasn't offended. Generally, she only offers herself to friends and patrons that she likes, so I guess it's an honor to know that she considers me a friend, but I wasn't about to compromise the law-enforcing partnership that Lady Corinth and I have. Instead, we talked business, and I got an education in what running a business on Balmorra means." Darael chuckled, then sipped his whiskey. "Corinth questioned me about the whole thing later. Heh, she was laughing pretty hard when she found out that not only had I not realized that I had been invited to a brothel, but that I was and am still a virgin."

"Uhh…" An-Etté stammered.

"Right… Right… Sex talk isn't exactly the most appropriate thing for a young padawan. Sorry about that." Darael laughed.

"I mean, eventually, I guess…" An-Etté shrugged.

"Just for future reference, so long as your personal affairs don't interfere with official Jedi or Marshall business, I honestly don't care. Interference includes any behavior which makes it more likely that you become susceptible to the Dark Side of the Force." Darael said. "Should you fall to the Dark Side then I will have no choice but to end your life."

An-Etté froze.

Darael sipped some more of his whiskey, then spoke in an unnervingly cold voice. "We are Sentinels, An-Etté. We hunt the Dark Side, wherever it is, whoever it is. Unfortunately, the law generally restricts us to those who are breaking the law."

"But what about those times when someone is trying to do good? What about the people who are just doing what is necessary? Is there not-"

"Some shade of grey? That is not for me to decide. There is law, there is judgment, good and evil. What you define and serve is entirely up to you. My job is to teach you how to serve and lead you in the direction of the Jedi. Granted, I get no pay for serving a reviving ideology, but I consider it to be the right thing to do so I do it.

"Long story short, An-Etté, I don't decide where you see black, white or grey, but for now, follow my lead. That concept, though, is most of the reason why we came here." Darael cracked a small smile as An-Etté gasped. A strong presence in the force had just entered the bar.

"Pull your hat down," Darael said as he turned around in his seat. "Bex! Long time no see!"

"Darael! What are you doing off of Balmorra?" a tall, blonde, human male walked towards Darael and An-Etté. His jumpsuit gave away his status as a pilot.

"There was business to take care of, a few bounties to pursue, you understand." Darael waved off the question.

"And you had just enough time to crash into Balmorra?" Bex laughed as he drew out a seat.

"We didn't crash, we landed quite well despite your barrage of blaster fire," Darael said coolly.

An-Etté spun. "He was the one who was shooting at us?"

"And she was the pilot, wasn't she?" Bex smiled. "So what's so special about her?"

"My brother asked me to look after her for a while. As it turns out, all sorts of family come out of the woodwork after you leave the Jedi." Darael smiled.

"Hah! I would agree with you, but I haven't had to worry about that since the Sith War." Bex said.

"Well, being partially responsible for the death of your family would have that effect, I suppose."

"Eh, they never really knew me anyway, and there are always casualties in war. Didn't we agree not to discuss the wars like this? I thought that there was some mutual agreement to not judge each other for sides chosen." Bex's complexion darkened as he furrowed his eyebrows.

"Not quite, Bex. We agreed that I wouldn't kill you, old friendships and camaraderie notwithstanding."

"Always the soldier, Darael." Bex sighed. "There's a reason why the Sith were the better option - freedom."

"Sure, freedom to harm, maim, conquer and destroy. You got literally everything you wanted just because you were trained in the force prior to Revan's return."

"You could have had the same deal, Darael. All Revanchists were welcome under the Dark Lord's banner." Bex motioned to the nearest waitress. "The same that he's having, on my tab."

"Not my style, Bex."

"I know. All that 'Honor' bantha-piss that you hold yourself to."

"Not what I meant, Bex. You're ordering the same drink as someone else. Not my style and definitely not cool." Darael smiled.

"And what about imitation being the sincerest form of flattery?" Bex laughed. "I guess that was your hint at changing the subject, heh? Well, fine then, the girl's stunned aura tells me that she's still pretty green, and I guess that there's a reason for why you're actually here."

"Many, yes, though seeing an old friend isn't the worst among them." Darael took a swig of the newly arrived drink.

Bex raised his glass in like fashion. "Nope, that prize would go to you exposing your new Padawan to the Dark Side of the Force."

An-Etté gawked. Darael kept smiling. "No hiding it from a fellow veteran."

"Of course not, so stop being stupid. We have better things to do than hide our true intentions. I always figured you'd go back to the Order, and the force is with this girl. What led you to take her on?"

"Technometry."

"So if I were to hand her my hydrospanner…"

"She'd see all the innocents that you slaughtered in the name of war, yes, as well as the lightsaber that you've hidden in there." Darael laughed at the unease on Bex's face. "What? Don't think for a moment that I never knew. You should really be less obvious about it."

"Son of a-"

"Don't worry, I have the authority to kill you or take you in, but you and I both know that I won't. That would both blow my cover and betray the one promise that I made to you." Darael took another swig.

"Besides, Darael, then you'd have to deal with getting off-world in nothing but that bucket of bolts you flew in on. You've got a good pilot and you're pretty good at that cannon, but I've got a few more wings of Star Sabers to throw at you, courtesy of Kai."

"So you found a mechanic to take Star Sabers and have them piloted by droids?"

"High-level slave circuitry, actually. It's how we're able to run a warship the size we've got with significantly less than a skeleton crew. It's a Star Forge remake of the Sith ship Exar Kun found out on Yavin 4. No shields, just ridiculously tough armor."

"No shields?" An-Etté asked.

"Nope, it was cheaper and easier to manage. In big enough numbers you wouldn't even be able to tell the difference, you'd be too concerned with being stuck in an outdated Hammerhead that's coming apart at the seams." Bex laughed. "So, Padawan, what is your name?"

An-Etté looked to Darael, who nodded. "My name is An-Etté. It has been an experience, meeting you."

"Hah! Darael, your Padawan has a sense of humor!"

"I think that she's still reeling from realizing that people like you exist."

Approximately half a standard hour later both Bex and Darael were completely drunk. They were also, conveniently, unconscious. Corinth had come into the Bar and handed An-Etté the goggles that she needed to complete the disguise before ordering a cocktail for herself.

"So, what did the boys have to talk about and say?" Corinth sighed.

"War Stories, mostly. Closer to the end they were singing some song about a Jedi's threesome with a Twi'Lek and a Rancor."

"Nevermind, forget that I ever asked." Corinth groaned.

"If I can, I'd like to forget the whole incident." An-Etté shuddered.

"Unfortunately, you won't. Drinking songs are catchy. I seriously wish that they would just use the force or something to keep from getting drunk and destroying their livers, those things are expensive to artificially create." Corinth held her head in her right hand, swirling the drink in her left.

"So we leave just as soon as they wake up?" An-Etté asked.

"No, just as soon as The Nymph gets refueled. We can just drag Korvos back and leave this friend of his passed out on the floor."

"You mean the Sith?" An-Etté asked.

Corinth spun and glared hard at An-Etté. "Did you just say that this _friend_ of Korvos is a Sith?"

"Was, at least. It's like he's a faded red, more like pink than crimson."

Corinth shook her head. "I may be a little buzzed at this point so I'll ignore your apparent perception of color, but this man who's just as unconscious as my partner is a sworn enemy of my family and my planet. Given an opportunity like this, it is within my diplomatic immunity to end his life."

"Well, everyone always says that the Sith and the Dark Side are red, so I just figured that was what I was supposed to call it and oh! No - Stop!" An-Etté panicked pretty quickly just as soon as she'd noticed Corinth holding a blaster to Bex's temple.

"Huh. I'd forgotten that the VPA hadn't taken this. It would be so easy…" Corinth mused, sipping from her drink.

"But, you can't!" An-Etté said quietly. No one else had noticed the blaster, yet.

"And why not? I have the authority to do this, and Balmorra does not recognize the official pardons of the Republic except in special circumstances."

"But Mas-Marshal Korvos would have to end you for acting in accordance with the Dark Side!"

"Do you honestly think that he'd kill me? He cares about me too much, and there isn't anyone else who's willing to drag him out of a bar when his dosh-drunk butt gets stuck on the floor. Besides, I've seen him do worse."

"What… What do you mean by that…"

"He's got this sick delusion in his head that cutting someone's hands off is enough to stop them from doing terrible things, but the rich only buy better hands and the poor can't work anymore to even be able to buy new hands, so they just wind up starving to death. Isn't a quick death so much better and so much more efficient than that?

"I've seen him burst into private homes and kill someone without a warrant or just cause, just on some premonition that 'the Force' supposedly gives him, then he's always able to find the right evidence or the right witness to make it look like there was just cause, like a beaten and bloody wife in the closet or a newborn in the freezer.

"Everyone always looks at Korvos as the Perfect Marshal, always noticing some tiny little thing by which he can save lives and establish justice. For years we represented the law outside of the port cities, and he would solve every problem in town the way that he felt like solving the problem, and he'd always leave me with the paperwork. No respect for what the law actually is or how we're supposed to be representing it; instead let's jump on a speeder to track down and chase this wanted criminal through the wastes. Dosh."

"But…"

"Precisely, kid. You Jedi are always so pretentious just because the Republic gives you full authority to be peacekeepers and kill people that you arbitrarily decide need to be killed. It's like giving a vigilante a sniper rifle with unlimited ammunition and no one to oversee what happens, just some common planetary security officers to pick up the pieces of the living and the dead." Corinth rambled on, lazily swishing her drink but keeping the blaster focused on Bex.

"We're taught to solve things peacefully, to avoid bloodshed, if possible, to be judicious in what we do." An-Etté protested.

"Do you honestly think that the average citizen cares? Balmorrans certainly don't; both the Jedi and the Sith were equally terrible given that they were the same people. The Mandalorians, at least, were honest about their intentions and didn't hide it. Honor and conquer, pillage and plunder wasn't really their thing."

Darael slowly rose off of the floor, pushing Corinth's blaster back into the holster. Corinth didn't fight it, she just sipped a bit more of her drink, smiling playfully at him.

"You left the safety on. Next time you think about killing someone with a blaster instead of your fists please just use your fists. We both know you only wear that thing as a fashion statement." he said. An-Etté was dumbfounded.

"Ma-Marshal, didn't you hear any of what she just said?" An-Etté stammered.

"Many times. Corinth doesn't hold liquor terribly well, so she rambles, and since she's always with me when she's tipsy I get the earful." Darael yawned. "Blast, I'm tired. How long was I out?"

"About five minutes," An-Etté answered slowly.

"Blast. I should have been down longer. If you hadn't made so much of a fuss then I wouldn't have woken up."

"But she was about to kill your friend!" An-Etté protested.

"No she wasn't, she was just testing your conviction." Darael waved it off.

An-Etté was stunned, or at least stuck in her seat, in the face of Darael's nonchalance and Corinth's tipsy smile.

Corinth leaned forward towards Darael and looked up at him wryly. "You know, Korvos, if we keep getting drunk around each other one of these days Essie will see some truth to its fantasies."

"Which is why I sober up the moment that you start getting buzzed. You're really not good at holding your liquor." Darael pulled out a credit chip and handed it to the bartender. "Everything my party has had so far, and Bex's tab."

The bartender silently took the chip and ran it over to the register the moment he had the opportunity, giving Darael a chance to hoist Bex up from the ground. Corinth took the chip back for Darael when the bartender got back and set down her drink. "I guess that we're going, then?"

"Yes, Lady Marshal Corinth. I need to find somewhere to put Bex down, probably in a nearby hotel or something."

"I have other names, too. You don't always have to call me that…" Corinth grumbled as she stood up.

"I am well aware of your long multitude of names, Lady Corinth."

"Just say Nadine! I like Nadine. It's the name I want you to -"

Unfortunately, Corinth was interrupted by a pinging from Darael's left pocket. Being careful not to drop Bex, he reached in and took out his holocommunicator. The image of his former CO stood bright and upright.

"Sir?" Darael asked.

"Unfortunately, it seems that I have no choice other than to call on your services as a Bounty Hunter. You do still take independent jobs, yes?"

"I do. What do you need?"

"Some miners accidentally dug up an old cache of Basilisk War Droids and one of them activated. The survivor barely made it out alive. Vanquo is more than prepared to compensate you for this service."

"Send me the coordinates and a speeder. I'll be on my way ASAP." Darael said. The feed cut out immediately afterward.

"A Basilisk?" An-Etté asked.

"Mandalorian. The one was probably activated as a defense mechanism for the cache." Darael said. "Lady Corinth, can I trust you with Bex until An-Etté and I get back?"

"Not really, no. Are you not taking your partner with you into the fray?"

"No. You're buzzed and terrific at anti-infantry, but you'll be useless against a Basilisk." Darael sighed. "But in that state and refusing to take care of Bex I guess I've got no choice but to take both of you with us, even though you'll both be liabilities and only An-Etté and I are in fighting condition."

"Korvos!" came a call from outside.

"That must be our ride. Let's go." Darael led them out of the bar.


End file.
